“You know I’m not supposed to be talking about an ongoing investigation.” Tom looked irritable and stressed, and clearly he wasn’t happy about having me back in his office so soon. “You are starting to be a walking bad-luck charm, Boy-O.”
“Come on pal, there has to be something. Your guys can’t tell me that a struggle with several guys and a feisty gal like Honey didn’t result in some evidence.”
Slowly Tom rose from his chair and then quietly slipped closed his door. He turned to me and leaned against a row of battleship-grey filing cabinets. “Well, there were a few orange hairs.”
“I think it’s time to have a visit with Wabo’s strong man. Maybe he can give me some intel. I am feeling the need to crack some heads.”
“Now hold it Duff, that won’t help you, and it can’t help me. Let us do our work. If you get involved it might be bad for Honey. No one that we know of has even been contacted yet.”
“Well, I can’t just stand around and do nothing. You have any idea who the Persian might be.”
“Yeah, possibly. Another of Wabo’s thugs. But this one is a lot smarter than Orangey. Normally he is in the background, one of Wabo’s closer advisers rather than muscle. Something really serious must be going on for Wabo to be letting him get his hands dirty in the field. I think his name is Sattar.”
I mused over the name and drilled it into my memory. Sattar and I were destined to have words.
Tom sat back down and put his paws on the desk. “Clearly they didn’t find what they wanted from the old man, or what they found instigated them to grab Honey. I wonder if she has information that could have helped us out?”
I nodded and said, “Possibly.”
“We interviewed everyone at the university who worked with him. Not the most beloved academic, but they respected his research and production. Only one little thing made me wonder. He took an unexpected trip to Charleston about two months ago, wouldn’t talk about it, even missed a few lectures he was supposed to give. Some of his colleagues said that was about the time some shady characters started showing up at the college. We checked through his files at the school. I’m no brainiac, so nothing especially interesting stood out.”
I scratched my chest, a nervous tick from my kittenish days. “Might be something, maybe not. You know anything about the limo?”
“If you had grabbed the plate numbers, it might help. Kind of classy for Wabo’s organization. Maybe we have more players here than we thought.”
“You think Wabo might be the middleman?”
“Not enough yet to haul him in and put the screws to him.”
“You got anyone on the inside?”
“Naw. He busted our last undercover. Broke him up pretty badly. I’ve never seen a feline who went through so much abuse and lived to tell about it. But they must have scared him pretty bad, because as soon as he was out of the hospital he just disappeared.”
“Didn’t give ya nothing?”
“Only some general stuff. That the crew seemed especially jumpy and tense, as if pressure was being applied to them. Also made them more cautious and wary, which is how they caught the guy. Wabo was furious. But since they guy skipped, we haven’t been able to pull in the boss.”
I pace back and forth on the already worn threadbare carpet. My mind was spinning. I needed a drink. Time to hit O’Malleys and see if I could clear my thoughts while at the same time dulling them. Honey being in danger was driving me insane. I should have been there, kept her out of trouble. I didn’t want to think of worst-case scenarios.
“I’ll catch ya later Tom.”
[Join us tomorrow as we continue The Adventures of Duffy
Dean, Detective on this radio channel.]
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